


Fallen Heroes

by captivated



Category: Merlin (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Albion is in need, Amnesiac Stiles Stilinski, Arthur and Stiles bromance, BAMF Stiles, Bullied Stiles, But A Good Dick, But he kinda isnt?, But hes a really good friend, But that was only in Camelot, Derek Loves Stiles, Derek Needs To Use Words, Elyan is alive, F/M, Gwaine Is A Dick, Gwaine is alive, Hes such a sourwolf, I know I said Scott is a bad friend, I like killing people off, ITS HOW I DO, Knight Stiles, Lancelot and Stiles are Knights in Love, Lancelot is alive, Lancelot still loves Stiles, M/M, MERLIN IS NOT DEAD, Merlin and Arthur are in love, Morgana And Stiles Were Engaged, Morgana Is Still Evil, Mostly everyone in Camelot is alive, Scott Needs A Hug, Scott is a Bad Friend, Stiles Stilinski is Not Amused, Stiles also needs a hug, Stiles is Not a Virgin, Stiles is a Knight of Camelot, Stiles knows how to fight, Time Travelling Stiles Stilinski, Until Stiles Finds Out She's Evil, Uther Doesnt Like Stiles, its not even funny, not exactly, stiles is kicked out of the pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captivated/pseuds/captivated
Summary: Stiles time travels unexpectedly to the Medieval Times, at least a thousand years before he was born. He ends up in Camelot — also known as Albion — and starts to fall in with the crowd. He starts to lose his memories of his family and former friends in Beacon Hills, believing that he himself was all alone in Camelot.Years and years of being involved with Arthur Pendragon and Merlin, he becomes the Protector of Camelot (honored by King Arthur) and serves as one of the Knights proudly until the battle with Morgana that resulted in losing Sir Gwaine and Arthur Pendragon in the process.Shortly after, Stiles is killed and he's sent back to the modern times. The only thing is... he has no memory of living in Beacon Hills or any of his friends. The Pack seems to keep it that way until the fallen heroes of Camelot and the once and future king are resurrected again when Albion is in need once again.As the fallen heroes reunite, a powerful force will wake up and soon destroy everything in his path to get rid of the heroes of destiny.





	1. Heroes, Arise

Something bubbled on the surface of the cold water, creating a ripple effect that spread and smoothed out within three seconds of the action. The moon beams struck down on the water, creating a dramatic effect that made the arrival of a familiar face seem like he’s been casted down by the angels above. Soon, something moves in the water, but slowly due to the pressure that was gravitating on him with his every move.

The man ascends towards the surface. His hair, dripping wet, stuck to his forehead as the man regained his breath after being in water for about a minute. He forces himself to move farther to where he could reach land, revealing his clothes. It was an old armor, silver chain mail clinging to his body and a red cape flapping as a cold breeze whipped at his very skin.

Goosebumps formed on his arms and neck when he was finally out of the water, hearing as the crickets take over the silence that consumed him. He sucked in a sharp intake of breath and breathed out. He rested his palm on his sword hilt and muttered one thing to himself, “where the hell am I?”

But after awhile of thinking to himself, he closes his eyes and flash backs fills his own mind. Memories about Morgana, Uther, Lancelot, Merlin, Guinevere and the death of Arthur Pendragon. Eventually, he remembered his own death. After Arthur was sent adrift in the Lake of Avalon, a sword pierced from the back, striking his heart in an instance before pulling out.

He frowned. His best friend, Merlin, had to experience the death of his two beloved friends. But this time, the Knight was gonna make it up to him. Someway, somehow. Then he opened his eyes back again, the memories were still fresh in his mind and he remembered when the Knights, Gaius, Merlin and Guinevere, Arthur and himself sat at the round table. Arthur dubbed him as a full Knight that day.

And he remembered it clearly, “ _Arise, Sir Stiles, Knight of Camelot.”_  

Thunder boomed and their destiny begun; the fallen heroes of Camelot will arise once again and take back Albion for when it's in need. 

 


	2. Stiles' Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles tries to distract himself from the Pack but eventually, he runs into the Keeper of the Forest who informs him that his destiny will begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just giving you a heads up that Stiles will be living in Camelot for eight years.
> 
> Don't freak out though, eight years in Camelot is eight months in Beacon Hills. Hopefully that makes sense. For every month that passed in Beacon Hills, it's a year that passes in Camelot. Time moves fast in the past because that's how I'm writing it. 
> 
> The first chapter is how Stiles landed in Camelot. Throughout the whole story, odd chapters will be the flashbacks and the even numbered chapters are the present. Just to let you know.
> 
> Enjoy!

**STILES STILINSKI**  took a break from his homework. The lack of sleep was weighing down on him, he could barely keep his eyes open for a few seconds until he felt his lids slip downwards. His eyes stung from the bright light that came from the lamp right across his computer desk. Stiles sighed loudly and leaned back, relaxing his back into the cushion of his black computer chair. 

 

About two nights ago, Stiles got kicked to the curb when he attended the last Pack meeting he'd ever go to. After awhile, it hurt but soon he realized that life was too short to rely on people who didn't thank him for saving their asses continuously. Stiles paid no attention to the harsh comments that were being said behind his back nor did he take it personally when he was being shoved down to the floor by Jackson. 

 

Jackson may act like the douchiest bully in the school but deep down, Stiles could see how broken he is. Jackson hides his pain with his ego, his nonfiltered comments about Stiles and his looks. Stiles didn't hate him, Stiles knew exactly what Jackson felt. 

 

Yet, it was unforgivable. Scott did nothing to protect him but that was fine, Stiles hated being the damsel in distress or the Little Red Riding Hood to their Big Bad Wolves. The only thing he wished for is to be somewhere that he belonged. He wanted to fit in someplace that would accept him because he's human. A human who has been through so much pain in the past years. 

 

Stiles ignored the doubt clouding his mind and ran his hand through his ruffled, gelled hair. He missed laughing with the others, he missed beating Isaac at video games, he missed everything about the Pack but they decided to kick him out of the Pack because he's weak, he's just a liability. Stiles still loved them but he just wanted to distract himself from the Pack. 

 

Stiles pushed himself out of the chair and shut off the lamp. Darkness engulfed his room, along with him, and the teenage boy walked over to his bed, discarding his clothes except his underwear and plopped onto the bed. He never sleeps with just his underwear, Stiles normally wore pajamas and an oversized shirt but he's too tired to care.

 

Stiles grabbed the duvet and threw it over his whole body, clinging to his pillow tightly. He wished to be in a place where he could call home. Beacon Hills may be the town he grew up in but it was far too terrifying to even call it home. He just needed to feel like he belonged; he wanted to belong.

 

Stiles started to drift into his dreams and his wish tumbled from his lips that could change his life forever.

 

The next morning, Stiles woke up and yawned loudly. He stretched, still in his place on the bed, and popped his back joints. He sighed in relief as the knot in his back weakened and pulled himself out of the bed and nearly tripped over his backpack. It was Saturday, there was no school today which meant that Stiles had the whole weekend to find himself. 

 

So, he made a bucket list. The first bullet point on his list was to get in shape. In parentheses, he wrote 'hiking' in big capitalized letters and his finish point once he was done. It was a pretty good task for him to do, he was growing muscle on his lean body. The faint lines of his abs were starting to become visible and he had a sharp prominent jaw than he did when he was only sixteen. Instead of the baby face that he sported as a freshman, Stiles had bits of stubble growing on his face making him look more matured and older. 

 

The dark purple bags under his eyes gave him more of a 'I haven't slept in five days' look, it threw his looks off but the more Stiles looked at himself in the mirror, the more he realized that his spastic self became a bit athletic. Correction; he is athletic. Running from werewolves gave him more muscles in his legs than his whole body. Stiles actually made it around the track two times without collapsing. Finstock was very impressed at the effort Stiles made but it didn't mean that he was going to promote Stilinski off the bench.

 

“Son, you look happier than usual.” Noah Stilinski, the Sheriff of Beacon Hills and his own father, said as he walked in the room with a white coffee cup in his right hand. His father had a smile plastered on his face when he noticed that his son was jumping with energy. It was something that Noah didn't see a lot when Stiles took Scott out to see a dead body. “Met someone special?”

 

Stiles choked on his spit and tripped over his feet, catching himself before he face planted on the floor. “What? No! Dad, me? Meeting someone special? Yeah, like that would happen.” He scoffed, indignantly. “I'm actually making myself a bucket list, it's better than staying in my room waiting for cases to solve.” 

 

Noah shook his head in amusement. “I thought you liked waiting in your room for cases to solve.” Noah teased, hiding the fact that he was still upset when he found out that Stiles' Pack kicked him out when he needed them the most. If Stiles didn't reassure him that it was worth it, Papa Stilinski would've shot the Pack full of wolfsbane that they'll be coughing up gun powder and shells. 

 

Stiles grinned broadly. “Your scanner gets a bit boring sometimes.” Stiles licked his lips and started to shove random things into an empty bag that he found underneath the pile of clothes in his clothes. “I'm gonna go out and hike. I really need to get my noodle self into shape.”

 

Noah laughed. “Okay fine. Just be careful, alright son? I don't want to get a phone call that says that my son found a dead body in the woods again.” Stiles cackled and threw his thumbs into the air with dimples present. The teenager slung his bag and hooked it over his shoulder before walking out.

 

Stiles walked towards his jeep and hopped into it, injecting the key into the keyhole and the car purred to life. Stiles smiled to himself and said, “atta girl.” He gently slapped the headboard and drove towards the hiking trail.

 

It took him fifteen minutes to arrive. He parked his Jeep at a unreserved parking spot and grabbed his bag. Locking the doors to the car, Stiles took off and walked uphill. Few minutes of walking, Stiles noticed how beautiful nature is. He didn't realize how much he'd admire it until now, usually when he's out in the wood, it's normally after chasing beasts in the middle of the night. 

 

Straying from the hiking trail, Stiles got lost. He ended up in front of a huge lake that sparkled in the sunlight and something shiny at the bottom kept hurting his eyes. Stiles shook his head and threw his bag against the tree, sitting crisscrossed on the dirt. “What are you doing here?” Stiles jumped in fright and fell on his back as he tried to turn and see the person who snuck up on him.

 

He didn't know who the person was, Stiles never saw him around or heard his voice. He was barely old, maybe in his mid-thirties, with gray streaks covering half of his dark brown hair. Wrinkles appeared in certain spots of his face and his blue-green eyes pierced his very own soul. “I'm taking a piss, what do you think?” Stiles couldn't refrain himself from saying something that could get him killed. But instead of the man wielding claws or some sort of weapon, he just laughed.

 

“You. I like you.” He laughed. “You got lost, didn't you?”

 

“Yeah, how'd you know?” Stiles asked with a cocked brow. “You're not stalking me, are you?”

 

The man shook his head. “No, I'm not, Stiles.” Stiles' eyes widened as the stranger said his name with ease like he knew him. Stiles became tensed and looked like he was ready to fight but in reality, he couldn't fight for crap. “Calm down, boy. I didn't come here to kill you.”

 

“Who are you? No, what are you?”

 

The man grinned. “No one that you need to know yet. But if you really want to know, I'm the Keeper of this part of the forest.” He said, gesturing to the whole environment surrounding the both of them. “No one had come across this part of the forest until you came. You didn't get lost, Stiles, you were drawn here.”

 

Stiles titled his head to the side and laughed. “Right.” He muttered sarcastically. “So technically, you're like my fairy godfather who's trying to make me fulfill my destiny, is that right?”

 

The man paused then nodded afterwards. “Something like that,” he replied. “But I don't recall of ever being a fairy godfather. How does that work?” Stiles opened his mouth to speak before clamping it down shut. The Keeper of Forest nodded his head and continued, “Look, Stiles. You're very important, more than you could ever think of. I can't tell you about your destiny, not yet. But right now, you have to make a decision.”

 

“What kind of decision?”

 

“Either you can stay here and let the future destroy you or you can fulfill your destiny and save the people you love the most.” He said. “I'm afraid that there isn't much time since the sun is about to set. By the looks of it, you only have an hour to come up with a decision. Make the right choice.”

 

The man disappeared into thin air. Stiles groaned in exasperation, throwing his arms up in the air in frustration. He came out to hike for a good time but a Keeper of the Forest had ruined it by letting him decide whether he wanted to be a complete failure and look like a total fool or fulfill his destiny and become the hero that he wants his friends to see. He didn't know what his destiny is, why the hell should he listen to a man who basically knew his name in the first five minutes that they met?

 

It could be a trap and the Pack could be hiding in the trees, filming the whole thing. It was still quiet though. The teenage boy turned to watch the sun set slowly on the horizon, the sky soon darkened, and the moon rose up beautifully. Stiles made the decision; it's an easy decision, he'd rather not be a coward. Calling upon the Guardian, Stiles told him that he'll fulfill his destiny.

 

The man appeared behind him with a smile and a long carved wooden staff in his hand. The man bowed his head and slammed the bottom of the staff on the ground three times. Air started to blow harshly around him and behind him, a massive water hole appeared in the lake. Stiles gasped in shock. “What am I supposed to do?”

 

He simply said, “jump.”

 

Stiles looked at him skeptically. “Look dude, I may be depressed in some ways but I am not that desperate.” Stiles shook his head and took a few steps back from the water. “I'm not jumping.”

 

“You made the decision, Stiles. If you jump, your destiny will begin. You wished to fit in somewhere that you belong, this is your time to belong in somewhere that you were destined to be. Jump now or forever feel the gut wrenching pit in your stomach.”

 

Stiles hesitated and nodded. He moved towards the surface of the water and stepped onto the dock that magically appeared in front of him. Each step he took, the dock advanced towards the waterhole more. The teenage boy took a deep breath, took a few steps back and lunged towards the water. When he reached the end of the dock, he jumped high, bent his back and held out his arms and went through the hole.

 

The waterhole closed up in a split second and Stiles was sent tumbling into somewhere different. The young adult groaned as he popped his shoulder when his arm collided with the ground. “Damn it,” he hissed and held his arm. “Where the hell am I?” Stiles made a full three hundred and sixty-three turn until he spotted a white painted sign a few hundred feet from where he was standing.

 

He jogged to that particular spot and on it, big black bold letters were painted onto the sign with an arrow sign pointing right.

 

 **CAMELOT**.

 

Stiles furrowed his brows and looked through the opening of the forest where a big castle laid in the distance. Stiles' eyes widened and he immediately blinked his eyes to see if it was just his eyes playing him. The castle still remained there. “Oh my god.” Stiles knew where he was now. He was in the United Kingdom, and in front of him, was the castle that would be ruled by King Arthur, the once and future king of Albion. 


	3. Cars, Swords and Melissa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “S-sorry.” The woman stuttered and turned the lights off. Stiles blinked his eyes a few times to get his eyes adjusted to the dark and placed the sword back into its holster. “Oh my god... Stiles?”
> 
> Stiles stumbled back. “How the hell do you know my name? Who are you?” The woman looked sad and walked towards Stiles. In response to her doing so, Stiles stepped back and gripped the hilt. He wasn't sure who this woman was but she knew his name and he did not know hers. He's never seen her before yet she does look familiar. Everything was confusing. 
> 
> “I'm Melissa McCall, Stiles. You honestly don't remember me?”
> 
> “Should I?” His answer struck her deeply. It made her eyes water and her chest beat a little faster than the normal rate. Stiles is back after eight months of missing and had no memory of who she was. “Look, I'm sorry if I don't remember you. I just came from the forest. I don't know where I am but I certainly think that I'm in the wrong generation.”

The cold wind slapped against his skin as he walked through the forest in confusion. The water began to bead down his forehead, mixing in with the sweat that formed out when he began to grow anxious. It was dark and quiet except the constant eerie noise of the crickets in the distance. He didn't know where he was and he wished he did. His hand rested on the hilt of his forged weapon and looked around. Nobody.

 

Scratch that, there were three campers in the distance, sitting by a fire and laughing about something. Tents were pulled up but they were small, much more smaller than ones he's slept in. He walked over, wanting to get some answers, and gave a glance at their clothes.

 

He grimaced it because he wasn't very familiar with those types of clothes that were made. He shook his head. As he sauntered towards them, the woman in the group registered him and laughed. “Hey, dude? Are you lost from your role-playing game?” Stiles' face contorted into bewilderment.

 

“What is role-playing?” He had a faint British accent that developed at his second year around Camelot. His accent began to thicken when eight years passed but from the way he saw it, he wasn't in Camelot anymore. The woman who spoke had a regular accent like he first did when he arrived at Camelot but it seemed new to him. 

 

The man next to the woman cocked a brow. “Oh,” he snapped his fingers. “You're role-playing and you don't want to lose character. We get it now, so what do you want to ask us?” 

 

“Where am I?”

 

All three of them looked at each other and laughed again. “You're in Beacon Hills, dude. Are you drunk or something? Look, if you are then I'll give you a ride home if that's what you want”—he stared at the realistically looking sword and scooted towards the woman—“just don't do anything that'll kill us.”

 

Stiles looks down at the sword and rolled his eyes. “No, I don't kill people and I don't know why you would assume that just because I'm holding a sword. I just want to know where I am, that's all.” He said, sternly. He took his hand off the hilt and spread out his arms so they would know that he's not a threat. “And what the hell is role-playing? Is that some kind of cult thing or...?”

 

The third man blinked. “It's a game where you act as these certain characters, most role-playing games are basically about fairies, golems, and whatnot. But from your costume, I could say that you are role-playing as a Knight from Camelot.” He told Stiles. 

 

“Yeah, okay. Fine, I'm role-playing but where exactly am I? You said something about Beacon Hills. What is that?”

 

“Okay...” The woman drawled out. “You're in the United States.” _United States?_ “You're in Beacon Hills, California.” _California_? “That is where you're standing in right now. Are you okay?”

 

Stiles shook his head. “I'm sorry, what the hell is a United States?” He said, furrowing his brows. “You know what? I'm probably drunk so I'm gonna head off. Thanks for helping me out, I guess.” The three watched him walk off. They were all stunned at his answer but otherwise, went back to what they were doing a few minutes before he asked for questions.

 

Stiles began walking again. More questions bubbled in his mind, they were barely answered. He wasn't sure about his whereabouts. The United States? What is that? Where was Camelot in all this? Is that what they called the New World as? United States? God, everything felt blurry around him. He didn't exactly fit into this place when he thinks about it. Where was Percival, Gwaine, Arthur, Lancelot or... Merlin? 

 

Absent-mindedly, Stiles walked onto the road without looking both ways. He saw this bright light strike on him and a very loud honk that interrupted his thoughts. There was squealing and the smell of something rubber burning hit his nose. Stiles turned towards the weird carriage that was blinding him. Stiles grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled the sword out of its holster, he pointed it at the object and soon dropped it when he saw a person hopping out of it. “Can you please get rid of the lights?” Stiles asked loudly. “It's bright.”

 

“S-sorry.” The woman stuttered and turned the lights off. Stiles blinked his eyes a few times to get his eyes adjusted to the dark and placed the sword back into its holster. “Oh my god... Stiles?”

 

Stiles stumbled back. “How the hell do you know my name? Who are you?” The woman looked sad and walked towards Stiles. In response to her doing so, Stiles stepped back and gripped the hilt. He wasn't sure who this woman was but she knew his name and he did not know hers. He's never seen her before yet she does look familiar. Everything was confusing. 

 

“I'm Melissa McCall, Stiles. You honestly don't remember me?”

 

“Should I?” His answer struck her deeply. It made her eyes water and her chest beat a little faster than the normal rate. Stiles is back after eight months of missing and had no memory of who she was. “Look, I'm sorry if I don't remember you. I just came from the forest. I don't know where I am but I certainly think that I'm in the wrong generation.”

 

“Wrong generation?”

 

Stiles didn't answer it, he asked another question instead. “What year is it?” He asked.

 

“Stiles...”

 

“Please answer the question. I'm dying to know.”

 

“The year is 2017. It's the modern world.” Stiles sucked in a huge breath. Oh god, this couldn't be happening. “Stiles, are you okay?” 

 

“It's 2017?” Stiles asked and looked around. “How? But... I... Are you sure?”

 

Melissa nodded. “Of course I'm sure, Stiles. It's 2017.” Stiles inhaled and exhaled before running his hand through his long hair. It's 2017, that means he traveled a thousand years after his death but how and why? Why would someone bring him back a thousand years later where everything has changed? Does this mean he's a thousand years old? He took in a deep breath and calmed himself down.

 

“Great,” Stiles breathed out. “I was pretty sure this was the 6th century.” 

 

Melissa's eyes blew wide open and glanced at his outfit. “Stiles, come inside the car. We will talk about what happened with you and please try and explain what has happened. Okay?”

 

Stiles nodded and stood out in the middle of the road. He was looking around and Melissa was already in the carriage, poking her head out of the opening. “Stiles?” 

 

“What the hell is a car?” Stiles flung his hands up to create exaggeration as he looked around. Melissa didn't say anything and Stiles sighed to himself. “Right, the one you're in,” he muttered, walking towards the car and opened the door to it. He stepped inside and sat on the -surprisingly- comfortable chair. “Wow, um, this is a cool... car.”

 

Melissa smiled. “Thank you.”

 

-

 

The woman and the two men headed back to their apartment after they gathered all their stuff. They were kind of weirded out by the man that they just encountered and realized that they did not want to deal with that again. As the man drove towards the apartment, he stopped by the Sheriff's department to report a drunken man. He knew it wasn't a crime but he wanted someone to take care of it so the man wouldn't hurt anyone with his sword.

 

“This is absurd, Lionel! He didn't do anything wrong!” His girlfriend huffed.

 

Lionel rolled his eyes. “He's drunk and he appeared out of nowhere. For once, I'm going to do him a favor and actually give him the help he needs.” He said. “He didn't even know where he was, let alone know what continent he's on.”

 

His girlfriend's brother shook his head. “Doesn't mean it makes him dangerous.” He added.

 

“Exactly! Thank you, Chris! See, someone agrees with me!” She said, crossing her hands over her chest.

 

Lionel scoffed and hopped out of the car while the others copied his actions. “Which is why I'm doing this, Felicia. If we don't do anything about it, he might hurt someone. It's better to be careful if it even happens again.”

 

They walked towards the entrance of the Sheriff's station. Lionel asked to see the Sheriff but the desk lady said he wasn't in yet and that they'd have to wait for a few minutes before he comes back from his break. They sat on three separate chairs, waiting, until Chris spots something on the board. “Guys,” he said, standing up and walked towards the board. “Look.” Felicia and Lionel followed him.

 

All their eyes widened. “That's him.” Felicia said.

 

On the board, it was a missing persons flyer.

 

_MISSING: Have you seen my son?_

_Mieczyslaw 'Stiles' Stilinski_

_Age - 18_

_Eyes - Brown_

_Hair - Brown_

_Height - 5'10_

_Weight - 147 lbs_

_Last Seen - June 15, 2016_

 

“He's the Sheriff's son.”


End file.
